Monday, April 03, 2017

hexenoic acid

I was in my other self my bad selfin the very stink and reek and altercation of itand she recognised this of courseI did too but not being this selfit felt legitimated and righteousas any other madnessit reeked off me and she reactedas someone would react to a huge wild goat that suddenly materialised in their car and grabbed the wheelsticking its heavy hoofon the accelerator, cackling and sprayingI woke up in jail, beaten upjust being left to materialise back intothe driver's seatit stank it reeked it felt likeone inhabited the skin of many goatsyou fuck, I thought, not really even knowingwhich goator whose wheelor whether this was that roador the other road, the fuckinggoat road upon whichso often we cackleshe left me a note saying I love yougoatface and it made me crylike a goat heading for a ditchin a stolen car.

About Me

The stuff on this blog is poetry. It's not sudoku. You don't have to work anything out or look for any meaning. It's just images and sonics and poetry that is designed to be untranslatable. If you try to translate it it won't work. Just let it remain as poetry and it might just...